Park day for my ward was yesterday. My sister in law Amy comes over this way for Sadie's dance class and joins us most weeks.
Yesterday she swung by my house and picked up Griffin while I finished packing the lunches. I got there 5 minutes after her. When I pulled up there was kicking and screaming coming from a car where grandparents were trying to get their granddaughter, Sammy (I heard them say), into her car seat. The screaming had been going on when Amy pulled up and who knows how much longer before that.
I just figured these caregivers were too soft. Not remembering that it's possible to speak sternly without losing the child's love.
Another 8 minutes go by. Then we hear the screams closer as the Grandpa is struggling with her in the sand, near our kids. Not really sure if it was appropriate to look, the five of us moms traded off glancing (staring).
Out of pure exhaustion and defeat, the old man yells, "CAN I GET SOME HELP HERE!"
For some reason I was the first one to jump up, believing I could help this little girl without yelling (which is what my kids usually hear when acting that way).
When I reached the group, the grandpa said, "She's looking for an imaginary whistle."
HUH? Alright, well, "what does it look like?" "Where did you last have it?" I wasn't really sure which question I should ask because niether would help me find an invisible whistle. So I got her to calm down long enough to tell her, "I'll find it. My kids will help me, we'll look everywhere and I'll bring it to you."
Calmly she said, "But you don't know where I live."
Sammy, then let me pick her up, carry her to the car, and place her in the carseat. I told her once again that if we found her whistle we'd bring it to her, but in my mind I was saying.......'Go take a nap, Sammy. Sleep tight.'